What Now?
by RosalieLilyPotter
Summary: After an attempted suicide, Esme finds her mangled self in the home of the doctor she knew as a teenager. Her thoughts as she is changed into a vampire.


Hi there! As always, I do not own Twilight.I wish I did, but, alas, Stephenie Meyer does. Hope you enjoy this little thing I thought up when I should have been doing homework!

The pain was unbearable. There was so much pain all at once; I was amazed that I hadn't died long ago. How long should this agony last? How long until my fragile body realized that I was not strong enough for this, and let me give into sweet, painless death? I had so many questions. I tried to control my voice enough to ask what was happening to me, but all I managed was a soft moan. I felt a cold pressure in my right hand that I hadn't noticed before. I wished desperately that whatever the cold thing was, it could cover my smouldering body.

"It's alright Esme. Everything is going to be all right. Just a little while longer, and the pain will go away, I promise."

I couldn't pinpoint the voice. I'd defiantly heard it before, I just couldn't recall where. I opened my eyes, and looked around, shocked. I was in a house. A house. Not in the bottom of Lake Superior. Why was I not drowning? I remembered jumping, and making the conscious decision to end my life. There was just nothing left for me to live for anymore. My son, the only love of my entire life, was cruelly snatched away from me far too soon. Parents should not burry their children. End of story. But I had to. I had to see his little lifeless form, not stirring, as he should have. Hard as rock. Cold as ice. Cold as what I had just realized was a hand. A very cold, hard hand. I realized that my eyes had closed again, as I scrunched them up in pain. I worked hard to make my expression smooth, and I reopened my eyes.

I was in a small room, with a window off to the side, with the thick cream-colored curtains pulled tightly shut. Dark wood paneling covered the small walls, and a perfectly white ceiling. It was a nice enough room. I twitched my scalding hand and felt what seemed to be a bed all around my tortured body. But I was particularly engrossed with the owner of the hand I'd felt squeeze mine earlier. He was beautiful, but really, beautiful did not even begin to explain it. His perfect and pale face, his perfect features. His eyes, which appeared to be golden. Gold eyes. He looked like he was having some sort of internal argument, his eyebrows knit together in frustration. He noticed my eyes, and relaxed his expression to something more comforting. He gave my hand another gentile squeeze.

"I know that this is all very confusing, but you really will be alright. Only an hour or so, and then you'll feel better again." He smiled at me encouragingly.

I just stared back. What did he mean? What was happening? Why did I feel like I had been lit on fire? I wanted to know what was happening to me.

"Who are you?" I asked through gritted teeth. He looked kind and familiar, and it was maddening.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen. I'm a doctor, and when you were sixteen I-"

"Fixed my broken leg," I finished.

"Yes, you remember." He smiled at me. I really did remember him as the attractive doctor who had mended my leg after I'd broken it falling from a tree. I had been intrigued by his, well, everything. The way he spoke so calmly, the way he smelled, and the genuine way he seemed interested in the answers I had provided for his many questions. I never forgot him. I imagined anyone who'd met Dr. Cullen could not forget him. I closed my eyes again, and my hand twitched, feeling like it was being stabbed by thousands of tiny needles. I felt cold pressure again on my hand, and I looked over to see that he had my hand. He was rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on the back if my hand.

Just as Dr. Cullen had said, the pain was beginning to fade from the tips of my toes and fingers. Soon enough, my hands were pain - free, and I held one up, the one he had a hold of. His hand no longer felt like it was cold. It was warm in a way. I looked at my hand. It was incredibly pale. White, almost. I was beginning to panic. What was happening? I moaned again. Just as the pain was fading from my limbs, it seemed to redouble in my chest. Soon my arms and legs did not feel like they were going to combust, but my chest was burning, and my heard was racing. Was I having a heart attack? When he'd said I would feel better soon, did he mean that I would die? Why wouldn't he just tell me that? I let a small sob escape my pursed lips, and covered my eyes with my free hand.

"You're so close. Just another minute or so," he said as his thumb stroked my hand. My heart pounded so fast, and I felt like I would die and then - nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was silent. My heart stopped beating, but I was still living. I opened my eyes quickly. I sat up far too quickly. Looking around, my surely startled-looking eyes meeting his sheepish ones.

"Wha-" I started, but he launched into a huge, and much needed explanation.

"I work in the hospital here, and I was working when they wheeled your body into the morgue. I looked at you and recognized the bubbly young lady I'd met in Ohio, and I couldn't just let you die. It was close, too. Your heart was barely beating when I found you. This will sound ridiculous, and hard to believe, but I'm a vampire. Yes, we exist. I couldn't bear to let you die; you were such a lovely person. So, I brought you to my house and bit you. Esme, you are a vampire."

I just sat there for a minute blinking. What? A vampire? Did he think I was dense? Vampires did not exist. But I could hear things that were very far away; I could see minute things, like dust swirling in the air. I could smell just about everything, and my throat was on fire. It felt as dry as the desert. I spoke timidly after thinking over his words.

"So we . . . I mean . . . we drink people's blood?" I said, repulsed by the thought of killing someone.

"Not exactly. We - Edward and I - hunt animals instead of people. I don't want to feel like a killer. Like a monster." He explained with his eyebrows coming together in determination.

"Oh," I said faintly, "Who is Edward?"

"I changed him a few years back, and he's something of a son to me, I guess you could say,"

"So there are two vampires in this town? Living in the same house?" I asked, feeling as though I had gone mad, discussing vampires with a vampire.

"Three now," Carlisle said quietly. I guess I would have to get used to the idea of being a vampire. A member of the undead. Interesting enough.

"Well, what do I do now?" I asked uncertainly. What did someone do once they realized a man they knew when they were younger turned them into a vampire?

"We go hunting." he smiled and took my hand, both of us running at an inhuman speed.


End file.
